


His and Hers

by cosmicchelc



Series: Lucifendi Stories [13]
Category: Layton Brothers: Mystery Room, Layton Kyouju Series | Professor Layton Series
Genre: F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Murder Mystery, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-27
Updated: 2020-09-18
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:41:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26143531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cosmicchelc/pseuds/cosmicchelc
Summary: To which Lucy and the Prof go undercover at a fancy, all expenses paid outing in an attempt to catch a soon-to-be murderer. It's not how the Prof expected to spend their weekend, but with Lucy's smile, he had no choice but to follow along.
Relationships: Lucy Baker & Alfendi Layton, Lucy Baker/Alfendi Layton
Series: Lucifendi Stories [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1106973
Comments: 7
Kudos: 25





	1. Impasse

"No." The Prof huffed, hearing the terms of the Commissioner laid out to him in full form. The Commissioner faltered, frowning at the Prof's strict decline.

"Alfendi--"

"I don't understand why I can't just use the reconstruction machine, solve the problem with Lucy and go about without having to step a foot out of the Mystery Room, sir." The Prof expressed, the concept already frustrating him to begin with. The Commissioner glanced to the Prof, a low sigh escaping his chapped lips. "You know how I feel about field work since Forbodium."

"Please, Alfendi. It can't be merely solved with the machine. The intention is to _prevent_ murder, not solve it afterwards. You two are the best here, especially since Hilda took leave and Justin is..." The Commissioner trailed off, pursing his lips. It didn't need to be said. Three months after Forbodium and Hilda had chosen to take leave suddenly, without explanation. Justin was in jail, so he was not much of a choice either. The Prof flicked his eyes up to the Commissioner and frowned.

" _Disposed of_. Barton, it's not our division to deal with those that are hiding behind thin veils of glamour." Fiery crimson came to view, edge in his tone before subsiding to his calm tone, "I refuse to follow into some charade that is not in our purview, Barton. Why can't you send Hague? Send practically anyone else?"

"Hague is busy on a different case. This is time sensitive. There's nobody else in the Scotland Yard I trust for this, Alfendi." The Commissioner expressed, "There's more on stake than just a mere-" he waived his arm around, "-murder. This is a matter of national security."

"National security that doesn't pertain to us then, Barton. MI5, I'm sure--" A knock to the door stopped all his musings, with Lucy stepping in. She held a tray of three cuppas in her hands, for the each of them.

"Sorry 'bout being late, the boiler hasn't been working right. Dustin said he'd get right to it." Lucy said sheepishly. The Prof's face turned soft, a smile gracing his features. The Commissioner eyed the two carefully, the development giving him surprise. Not so much surprise as it was...interest. "What did I miss?"

"Thank you Lucy. I fear you didn't have to go through all the trouble. I was just telling Commissioner Barton here that we won't be taking the case." The Prof responded, taking a cup from the tray. The Commissioner took one as well, nodding as thanks.

"You don't tend to reject a case, Prof." Lucy pointed out, sitting in the adjacent seat to the Prof. "What's gotten you so riled up?"

"Then you certainly don't mind if I ask Lucy then, Alfendi?" The Commissioner asked, "Surely, since she has much of a say as you do, being your assistant and all. I trust her just as much as I trust you, especially after Forbodium."

"Ask me what, sir?" Lucy queried as she took a sip of her tea. The Prof was practically seething in his chair, but the Commissioner knew as it was that he got the Prof at the mere mention of Lucy. Hook, line, and sinker.

"I require the two of you to go undercover and oversee attendees at this meeting in Canterbury. I have been informed it's a matter of national security." The Commissioner explained, "To specifically watch over a few people of interest who have been supposedly planning a murder. I don't need Alfendi to scurry around like he's on a case--his presence needs to be coincidental."

"And how do you plan on doing that, sir, if you don't mind me asking?" Lucy inquired, "The Prof doesn't really scream coincidental. Lab coats and all, eh?" The Prof shot her a irritated look; Lucy returned it with an innocent smile. 

"He needs to be on a romantic retreat. I thought of you two first. Trust aside, you two can easily look as though you're head over heels each other." The Prof sent a venomous glare at the Commissioner, who looked as though he didn't know any better towards what he was insinuating, but he certainly did. Lucy thought for a moment, the Prof believing that she would decline because she had tact. She had...

"Okay. I'll go with the Prof." Lucy finally said. 

"Lucy!" He barked. Lucy shrugged.

"It's a case, Prof. I think we can _pretend_ for a little while." She looked to him, "We've been in a relationship for so long. I don't think it'll be that hard to believe that we're a thing." He furrowed his brows at her meaning of a relationship--surely she didn't see them as an item? Not that it was a thing, surely. She never indicated any sort of attraction...

The Prof's face turned pink, glaring at his assistant who decided to apparently betray him. He attempted a rebuttal, "We're co-workers. I'm your mentor. Your friend. That's not the same as a relationship, Lucy."

"By 'eck Prof, for the mind you have, you surely don't think that's the only form of relationship out there? A relationship can be a friendship, Prof. A mentor-student type too." Lucy mused, tapping at her tea cup. She was oddly calm for this conversation. "If it means national security like the Commissioner is saying, I don't see why not. Gets you out of the Mystery Room too, eh?"

"I thought you liked the Mystery Room." The Prof frowned, swirling the last bits of his tea in the cup. Lucy giggled at his response.

"Aye, I do. I just think some fresh air would do you well. Summat like that, ye?" She responded, adjusting her cap and finishing the last of her cuppa. 

"Does that mean you'll take it?" The Commissioner queried, a smile playing on his features. The Prof looked to Lucy's bright demeanor, putting the final nail in the casket for him.

"Fine, fine. When must we be ready for this charade?" The Prof stood abruptly, with Lucy following with equal speed.

"Two days time. Come here at 10 am sharp, a car will pick you up and bring you over to the train station to Canterbury, along with any information you need." The Prof nodded curtly to the Commissioner, his fate already sealed at the concept.

"Come on Lucy. We have to finish that case from yesterday. I'm 98.2% sure we're almost there." Lucy nodded to him, strolling out the door. The Prof followed her up to the door, to which he turned around and looked to the Commissioner. "There's more to this, is there?"

"In honesty, Alfendi, there's nothing more than what I have told you." The Commissioner responded, "But I do hope you take upmost advantage of this getaway. Think of your assistant, what she's gone through because of what she was roped in."

"There's no advantage there, sir. And if you thought of that, you would have never brought her to me in the first place." His eyes turned dark, glaring daggers into his boss. The Commissioner shook his head.

"On the contrary, Alfendi, on the contrary." The Prof left no room for further discussion, closing the door with as much force he could without necessarily slamming it. The Commissioner placed his teacup down, sighing softly at the new development.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> first time I've practiced Lucy's accent. do be kind with me on that ;^; I'm a poor American who doesn't know much.


	2. Two Days Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is one of those stories where I'm inclined to put the whole "speaking in the head" thing that I tend to do with these fan fictions. 
> 
> in lieu of the concept of keeping to only Al (Potty) and Fendi (Placid), it'll be that the former is in bold and the latter in italics. I have yet to nail them well enough or to find a better way in doing so, but until then we're sticking with this.
> 
> I do also laugh at the fact that I've seen people call Placid 'Alfriendli' and it makes me chuckle. Anyway, here's the next chapter.

Two days time came in a slow, calculated motion.

Lucy was still, for some strange reason, completely oblivious to his feelings in regards to their "pretend" game that had fallen on his lap by mistake. For such a bright mind at cracking cases, she was quite dense when it came to these matters--something he had assumed would be the other way around. Had Lucy not shown up at that point in Commissioner Barton's office, he was absolutely certain his resolve against the Commissioner would have stayed. Nevertheless, he knew better than to go against his dear assistant, with her bright eyes and her own resolve bringing him weak in the knees. She knew what was best for him. Even if he didn’t know it himself.

 **"I'll admit that you handled his insistence in the best way you could have. I still could have threatened the Commissioner with ease."** Al huffed, musing over the case file they were reading. Fendi rolled his eyes, knowing that Al would have done it in a much less safer manner. **"Imagine him cowering--"**

 _"You’re still on about that, why am I not surprised? I do hope you understand who you're speaking of_ _, we’d_ _lose the job you already been demoted for in the past.”_ Fendi frowned, returning back to when Al was still going against Keelan Makepeace, in which his demotion from Detective Chief Inspector was a blow to his career. A large one. _"I know better than to be volatile. The Commissioner is more than just that smiling exterior."_

 **"Then what do you make of this...notion he's expressed?"** Al questioned. Fendi raised his eyebrows. It wasn't abnormal for Fendi to make the choices when Al wasn't riled enough to do so, but it was another thing for Al to ask directly. As though he was a person to him. **"This isn't some vacation thinly veiled as work."**

_"You're asking me for my opinion?"_

**"You're a permanent addition, as much as I despise such a concept. We...we are one person. Pathetically, two broken halves of one. I'd like to hear your thoughts on why Barton forced us into this ridiculous idea that we both don't even want a part of."** Fendi could practically hear the sneer in his response, but he brushed it aside. They couldn’t handle another migraine if they were going to argue.

 _"He sees something we don't. It is mere coincidence that he using our...weakness to Lucy to force us into this."_ Fendi murmured, _"It’s clever. I will admit it.”_

"Prof?" The Prof looked up to Lucy, who was sitting across from her on the train. To their surprise, the cabin given to them was of first-class. It was no doubt that the Commissioner may have pulled some strings to make their journey and undercover case a tad bit comfortable. "Summat the matter?"

"Nothing, Lucy." Fendi brushed it aside, pinching the bridge of his nose as he looked back to the case file in hand. "I'm just thinking."

"The both of yous?" Lucy smiled, stroking the arm of the plush leather seat as she sipped her freshly made cuppa. He nodded slowly, flipping to the next page and pretending to seem engrossed so Lucy would stop attempting conversation. "What about? The case?"

"Just mulling over the case. You know Al, already creating conclusions. I'm making my own deductions as it is." Fendi eyed Lucy, watching her reactions. "I take it you're enjoying yourself?"

"Blimey, Prof, you know you could tell me what goes on in that head of yours." She chided lightly. When the Prof said nothing in response, she sighed in a content manner. "I am enjoying myself. Though, I wish I could get treated like this all the time. But I suppose if I indulged all the time it'd start to feel like nowt, eh?" She paused for a moment, looking out the window. "If I had the money, I'd do it like this, y'know?"

"No, I suppose it would feel that way." He frowned, then his brain caught up with him for the rest, "The money for what?"

"A romantic getaway. One of those nice things that rich folks do when they love someone. Of course, it’d cost a fortune, but I'd love to hold the hand of that person I really like while at some getaway like this. The one that I'd love to take all the steps with. _To marry them._ To tell them all the sweet things that they deserve to hear because they deserve it. I know the whole material possessions thing and how they aren't everything, but even I can't deny that this getaway would be like a gift.” She touched a fingertip to the window, pointing absentmindedly at what they passed by. The Prof felt his cheeks turn a dastardly red at her words, but she didn't seem to notice. “It’s not something I’d prefer to do all the time, but it’s summat what I’d love to give to someone. I can take a days in, watching the telly, curling into each other’s embrace, but this?"

He held his breath, waiting for her to finish. Had he been standing, he was sure he'd be wobbling as it is. She glanced at him in awe, " _This_ is beautiful, Prof.”

_”She...”_

**”Oblivious. Completely oblivious to how she makes us putty in her hands. I both admire and hate her for it. How does she do it?”**

The Prof coughed, trying to ignore the beating of his heart that he was sure all of London could hear. If she saw the deep scarlet tainting his features, she said nothing of it. Fendi took the reigns of conversation, “That’s quite the description, Lucy.”

”Of course. Who do you think finishes the paperwork for you for additional detail?” She responded cheekily. Al made an effort to look annoyed on the exterior. With that look, Lucy delved into a nearby magazine, one that had all the celebrities that she probably liked watching. The Prof, still stunned, turned his eyes back to the case file, but couldn't help that still thumping feeling of his heart, even though what he was reading was filled with gore and murder.

* * *

The journey provided very little silence. Not from Lucy's correspondence towards him, but rather from himself. Al and Fendi both had their debates on what the case would entail, hoping that their bickering would prevent the cost of slipping their emotions out in the open. Before he knew it, they were at the hotel that was listed on the map, the cheery British seaside coming into full form, breathing heavily against them.

"Woah, Prof, ain't that summat." Lucy said, admiring every bit of the architecture in front of them, creamy beige walls bright against the sunlight. Al was less amused; he saw it like every other building out there. Fendi found it to be every bit of charming. 

_"You can learn to appreciate some sense of architecture."_

**"It's a bloody building. There are other things to appreciate. Other _people_ to appreciate."**

_"I won't argue with you there."_

What takes him out of their argument was her small hand slipping into his. He glanced to her, her expression unreadable from underneath the cap, but she gives his rough hand a comforting squeeze. The Prof felt his mouth go dry--romantic getaway aside, he forgot he had to act along with it. 

"Come on, _love_. We need to check in. I can't wait any longer!" Lucy giggled to him, taking ahold of a luggage handle with her free hand. It takes him a moment, but he snaps out of the trance and grabs his own suitcase and begins to walk, Lucy being his guide through his daze. She was all cheers and smiles, commenting on the flora that surrounded the building along with the beautiful lobby. She played her role beautifully, a fascinated vacationer with her lover on some ditzy vacation package that brought them comfort for a weekend. If he was a spectator, she would have him completely fooled.

 **"How is she so calm?"** Al barked, the emotional turmoil within upsetting him, **"She doesn't seem the least bit bothered!"**

 _"She called us love."_ Fendi commented, still confused about the whole affair, _"Haven't been called that since Hilda. She's an absolute enigma."_

 **"She's acting. Acting like the minx she is."** Al grumbled, **"This isn't a reality that will stay after this damn weekend."**

"Prof, are you okay?" Lucy brought him back to reality, her head tilted slightly to the side. They were in line to check in. Right. How did they get over here so fast? "You've been muttering to yourself n' all, thought I lost you there for a moment."

"I'm fine, Lucy." He attempted to brush it off, in hopes she'd just turn back to the front and keep holding his hand as though it was her only source of warmth. But of course, as Lucy, she wasn't going to just drop it. "Just not used to being outside of the office."

"We could go back, y'know? We don't need to go through this if ya feel uncomfortable." Lucy said sheepishly, looking to him in embarrassment, "I accepted this deal without really thinking about you. All of this. Having to pretend to be smitten with me and all. Kinda forgot that I could be insufferable. Can't imagine this being your ideal weekend."

 _"Insufferable? She calls herself insufferable?"_ Fendi asked incredulously, _"She must see us through rose tinted glasses if she sees herself that way."_

"It has nothing to do with me, Lucy. Nor does it have anything to do with this whole ruse." The Prof waived away, trying to ignore the pull to tell her what he was feeling and thinking, "I'm glad to be here with you, you're my partner in crime fighting, remember? You were right when you said I needed fresh air. This'll help me in the long run and we'll be solving a case. Everyone's happy at the end, no?"

"If you say so." Her tone betrayed that she wasn't quite convinced at his statement, but she chose to drop it, much to the Prof's relief. She turned back to the front, snuggling into his arm.

Oh, this was the weekend that was going to undo him.


	3. Two Can Tango

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been inclined to believe that the whole Mystery Room universe takes place...roughly around the 1980s to 1990s, if my memory serves me right. I have yet to determine if I want to or if I will stray to more modern times, though I may be inclined for the former the more I think of it. But we'll see.

The Prof didn't have any means of realizing that he was going through the motions until after he found himself standing in front of their suite's large wooden door, complete with brass numbers indicating the room 2011. Right, they had gone through the concierge, with Lucy doing most of the talking because his mouth clearly had lost the ability to speak. The lift ride, quiet silence as she snuggled against him--truly playing the part no less--and now he was here. He couldn't even object as Lucy swiped the key card in, the one he also had in his back pocket--was he truly that disengaged--and lead him into the beautiful room.

Saying that it was beautiful would have been an understatement.

The Prof was hardly a material man, but even he couldn't deny the beautiful cream walls adorned with copies of famous artworks, along with the deep-set emerald carpet that covered the whole floor, save for the bathroom. The lights were off, with the only grace of light coming from the windows that were framed with burgundy drapes. The room was large enough to have two armchairs that the Prof was sure one could sink into, with usual accoutrements required for hot beverages and a large glass coffee table. The bed was set with beautiful cream coloured covers with plenty of pillows that one could probably sink into, similarly to the armchairs. 

Their bed. The bed that they were going to share in the night. For two nights. 

_"I know what you're thinking."_

**"Au contraire, fake. We are _both_ thinking of the same thing. Don't sell yourself like the mighty one here."**

_"I thought you said I was a part of this one person? Still calling me fake?"_

**"I can call you whatever I like."**

"I've never seen summat so..." Lucy murmured as she closed the door behind them, finally releasing him from her hand. The cold enveloped where her hand was, causing him to frown.

"I do think your previous comment about it being beautiful truly is present in the room." The Prof moved forward, sitting in the armchair and closed his eyes for a moment. He was right--he immediately sank in slightly. Oh, he could sleep in this. It was worth the crick in the neck if it meant relaxing in such comfort. His countenance was broken by his Detective Constable, who was giggling at the sight. 

"If it means you sleep well, Prof, I'd steal this armchair for the Mystery Room!" Lucy giggled, "I wonder how the Yard was able to afford summat like this. There's no way that this would be a part of either of our paychecks, by all means!"

"I guarantee you that the Commissioner most likely had something to do with this. His implications that MI5 called upon us weren't remiss to me; he definitely called in some sort of favor or something of equal sort." The Prof deduced, humming as Lucy started to unpack, "You don't need to do that now."

"Aye, but I just need to put this in first. I think the rest of my clothing will be alright, but this is the one thing I can't have wrinkled any longer!" From his angle, he couldn't quite see exactly what she was taking out, as it was covered in plastic. Though, from what he could see, the strap was emerald like the carpet and the fabric looked more expensive than anything he had ever seen her wear. He was about to open his mouth to an objection, but remembered that he himself brought his own type of formal wear from reading what was asked of them, but Lucy was already to it. She picked up the suit carrier he had forgotten, unzipping it and sticking the suit within the wardrobe.

"What did you bring?" He asked, standing up and coming close to her. She turned, winking to him without any explanation. He faltered, frowning at her. For all the boldness she typically extruded in the Mystery Room and how she followed her instinct rather than logic, she was never like that to _him_. There was nobody around them--was she still faking?

"You'll find out, Prof. Don't worry yourself about it." The cheekiness emanated from her voice, but before he could comment at all, she clasped her hand around his again, "I'm hungry, are you?" He let out a noise, which sounded more like a goose getting strangled. That earned him a laugh. "Aye, well, I'm hungry. Let's go!"

* * *

 _"We can't look like we're losing our minds just being around her, Al."_ Fendi chided as they were sitting outside, in the back lawn of the hotel with Lucy still professing that they needed to enjoy the sunlight--whatever sunlight she was seeing through the clouds. Nonetheless, she seemed happy with a sandwich in her mouth, idly chatting about the scenery that she so desperately enjoyed. _"It wouldn't look believable to anyone in the slightest!"_

 **"You don't need to remind me. I know."** Al frowned, then a small smile came to his features, **"I hate to even say it, but it'll be quite the challenge. We're intentionally repressing what we feel, but need to show it for the case. If only we could just be honest with how we feel, there would be no need for this acting."**

_"Hm. Unless...if this is the weekend where we can play out our fantasies of being with her, then..."_

**"Then?"** Al waited for Fendi to finish the thought, grinning now.

 _"Then it's only fair we return the blushes she's been forcing onto us."_ Fendi insinuated, then Al nodded to him.

**"You're not as hopeless as I thought. Yes, I think it'd be a fantastic idea if we...let her know what she does to us."**

"Prof, are you even listening to me?" Lucy once again broke through his thoughts, bringing him back to the present. She was already halfway done with her sandwich, a stark comparison when looking at his barely touched one. "Not much of a romantic getaway if you're not engaged." He took the opportunity to clasp her hands together, with his surrounding it.

"I'm sorry, my love. I was just lost in my thought while looking at how beautiful you are. Do tell me what you were saying, I apologize." Lucy raised an eyebrow, but she couldn't hide the blush creeping onto her cheeks. _Hook, line, and sinker._

"Oh. Uh, I was talking about the plants. How I always wanted them in my flat but my flat doesn't really get much sun so..." Lucy pursed her lips, looking around. When she felt that nobody was watching, she decided to ask, "Prof, can I ask you something?"

"Of course you can, Lucy. It depends on if I have an answer." He answered cheekily. Lucy didn't seem all amused, so he dropped the pretense and looked to her in seriousness.

"Prof, have you ever felt attracted to someone?"

The question came out of nowhere, but he supposed it was something that he would have to answer eventually. His feelings aside, they were still friends. Friends that were, before this, in a mentor-and-student friendship. She was his assistant. His...erm.

"Didn't think my relationship history would be important to you, Lucy."

"Aye, well...never mind, forget it." Lucy shook her head, stuffing her mouth with another bite of the sandwich. She was clearly embarrassed and the Prof shook his head. 

"Yes, of course I have. If you're truly wondering, Hilda was my last girlfriend until Forbodium." Al admitted honestly, the memory still fresh that he could recall it. Four years ago, Hilda stormed out of his life in a mutual acceptance that what they had in the past was no longer present now. It was agreed, as Fendi didn't feel any necessary attraction to her anymore. "Four years ago. I was a different man now, you know that. Fendi couldn't make a damn personal connection because he spent his time in ridiculous guilt." **_Until you came along,_** were the words that would have continued that, but Al said nothing of the sort, instead asking, "What of your relationships?" 

It takes her a moment to answer, her hands idly swirling a cuppa. But when she does, he swears there's a small shift in her demeanor.

"Didn't really think much of relationships, to be honest, Prof. I had crushes, here and there, but generally that was it. I don't...recall ever really having a serious relationship that made me think, 'Blimey, I want to spend the rest of my life with them.' I just wanted to continue with my studies and figure out the whole relationship thing later. I were so busy that I neglected to really think about it all." She responded in earnest, "Funny to think that I'm already 22 and I haven't had summat similar to a serious one."

"Nothing to be ashamed of, my dear. Some people wait until they've truly set into their careers. Everyone's life is different." He gave her a small smile, one that she returned in equal fervor. "Why do you ask, though?" That was when her smile turned more into a wicked grin, one that she had only ever used when they had solved a particularly nasty case that required more than just one's fair share of thinking.

"Because, you're absolutely old fashioned in your flirting. I feel like I'm in da Victorian Era when you said that, Prof!" She laughed, with Al coming in seething.

"Oh, so you think you're better, Baker? You just admitted to not ever having a serious relationship!" Al barked, which only caused Lucy to laugh even harder. She leaned forward a tad bit, pushing the now empty plate away.

"That might be true, but crikey, Prof! You could use to modernize the way you flirt." The laughter had died down, leaving silence in their midst except for the soft sounds of the birds chirping. The hotel and it's individuals felt far away in comparison to how close she was to him. 

"Is that a bet, my dear Baker?"

"Maybe, Prof. Maybe." She tapped his nose, taking him by surprise. She stood abruptly, taking ahold of his arm and pulling him out of the chair and bringing him close to her. Like in all the times they ever walked, she put his hand in hers. It was starting to feel less jarring and more of a comforting sensation. "I'm 36.29% certain. Goodness, I've been around you that I'm calculating possibilities that way."

"Just because you say a numerical possibility?" He wasn't quite sure what her certainty was, as it could be towards the possibility towards a bet or something else. She didn't leave him much time to think, ushering him towards the hotel.

"A bit. Let's go!" 

"Where?"

"Back up. We got the room, might as well use it, right?" 

He was glad that he was taller in so that she couldn't see the large blush that creeped onto his features at the double meaning of what she said.


	4. Intricate Procedures

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I spent a little longer thinking about this fanfic and was trying to figure out what case I’m trying to go for. Trust me to not know exactly what I’m doing but eagerly setting foot to write a story.

It was a bit of domestic bliss, if the Prof was to be honest on how to describe their situation at the moment. Despite being at some fancy and posh hotel with the intent of stopping a murderer, he couldn’t quite help but feel as though he and Lucy were a domestic couple. Perhaps because she did, indeed, make the effort. Even in their room, when nobody was watching. The concept didn’t evade him, but he couldn’t continue to ponder it to such an obsessive degree. Rather, the Prof chose to worry about the case—more specifically, the case file that seemed to betray him by just being useless.

"Do you know how hard it is do be a detective when we practically have no information of what we need to prevent?" The Prof gritted out, skimming once again the same text he had read while they were on the train, hoping he had missed something. But no, he hadn't. It was simply because the minimal case file lacked so much. Lucy glanced up from the wardrobe--she had specifically asked that she'd put everything away, much to his chagrin--and shrugged to him. 

"We've gone on little information before, innit Prof? We know we're to prevent the possible-victim from getting murdered from one of his people, right? We also know who we need to keep an eye on, eh? It's more than our usual three but...you could probably narrow it down from there." She responded, closing the wardrobe and coming close to him. She leaned forward against the back of the chair where he sat, plucking the case file from his hands and examining it for herself. 

"Yes, but we had motives before. We had reason for people to do things to them. Here, I don't see any reason for anyone to be blackmailed or even remotely have any reason against Luke Tucker. Most people here are socialites and delegates, nothing to compare to how...plain Luke is. There's nothing that necessarily draws anyone here together except that meeting." The Prof used a finger to tap at his chin, "I should have read the case file before we even set foot in that car, Lucy."

Lucy only smiled, closing the case file and setting it on the coffee table. 

"We'll bat down any case that comes to us, one at a time, isn't that what we said?" Lucy recalled, back to when she had first met him.

"You mean, what _you_ said that day." The memory amused him, to which he had recalled that he had previously wanted absolutely nothing to do with her--an assistant wasn't what he had needed, he needed closure. But he had gotten that and more after her arrival, to which he couldn't say he regretted being her mentor. "I remember."

"Aye, well, you know what I mean! It still applies. Don't tell me that the great Alfendi Layton can't solve a case because he doesn't have enough information. We got three days, innit? Three days to figure out who's gonna do it." She kissed the top of his forehead as though it was a normal thing for her to do and smiled, "I'm going to use the shower first, Prof. Go mull it over some more, I'm sure your brilliant mind will figure summat out." She rifled through the wardrobe, finding something appropriate with a hum, and closed it. The door to the bathroom opened, closed, and it felt like an eternity before he heard the shower turn on. The Prof let out a breath he didn't even know he was holding, attempting to ignore the fact that Lucy was naked in the other room. Rather than entertaining some silly thought further, he opened the doors to the balcony, allowing the breeze to cool him off. 

**"This is idiotic. We're like a petulant teenager gaining the affections of a long-admired crush. How could she have us like this?"**

_"If I knew why she was putting up this charade while nobody is watching, you wouldn't have to say anything to me."_

**"My deduction is that she's getting into character. Getting used to being attracted to us. She is a natural at what she does, but chooses to continue instead of breaking the magic."**

_"You already know my deduction."_ Al made a sour face to that, as though even considering Fendi's deduction was enough to irk him. It wasn't that it was _impossible_ but more so that it was something he'd rather not entertain. Having high hopes for something improbable was always something for naught, for it usually never went in that direction. 

**"It's unlikely, you know that Fendi."**

_"I think it's a 67.23% chance."_ Fendi scoffed to his counterpart, _"I've been with her since day one. Trust me for once."_

 **"Bold numbers. Still too low of a chance. I've also been there since day one, don't pretend that you know better than I do."** Al gripped the railing tightly, **"Say that your deduction is true, by any rate. What then, Fendi? Are we of sound mentality to respond? To let it happen?"**

 _"In honesty, I don't know. It's a deduction, Al. It’s not reality." **But I wish it were.**_ The words were left unsaid, the deduction giving them both a strange sensation of fear and excitement. 

* * *

"You clean up well," Lucy commented as she closed the door to their room. The Prof had opted to wear a purple button-up with some black slacks, an effort to look nice but not too nice. Lucy on the other hand, opted for a simple floral blouse and white pants, to which he supposed was just a step away from what she normally wore in the Mystery Room. It was odd to see her without her trusty orange hat, but without it, her face was much more visible, much more... He shook the thought out of his head, stuffing a hand down his trouser pocket. "I honestly thought you just brought a buncha sweaters, Prof!"

"Now, Lucy, I had to find clothes to match the occasion and location we’ve been set to. You saw the suit." The Prof explained, this time initiating the hand-holding, to which Lucy happily obliged. "I know better than to look..."

"Like a madman?" She supplied helpfully and he shot her a dirty look, pressing the button for the lift. "I were only joking, Prof. You look fine." She reached up, adjusting a stray hair of his. "Now you look perfect." The lift opened, revealing another couple that the Prof instantly recognized from the photographs, specifically the male. The Prof nodded and smiled to them, leading Lucy in and opting for the right side of the lift. The man, named Philip Thurman, looked nondescript, someone who lived normally and yet he was here, a supposed important figure. It was clear that the woman had dressed him, as their clothing style seemed to mimic the other's; no chance for infidelity. Most would do so with an opportunity like this; they must be happily married.

The lift indicated the ground floor with a ping and the two couples left the lift, each going their separate ways with a curt nod. Lucy frowned, dragging him away faster from the couple. He looked down to her in confusion.

"I were downright about to tell ye to stop staring." Lucy muttered, grasping his arm a tad tighter than he had hoped, "It was starting to get uncomfortable, I’m sure they noticed. Did you recognize them or summat?"

"The man was one of the possible suspects. Philip Thurman." The Prof explained as the waiter lead them to one of those secluded areas, ones perfect for a couple seeking a bit of private time. They didn't even request it—he wondered if the man just took a glance at him and decided as so. Nevertheless, he pulled her chair out for her as a gentlemanly gesture. She grinned at him, taking a seat. He did so as well adjacent to her, glancing down at the menu but his mind was already racing of probabilities of the case. It didn't take long before he found himself looking at another person he recognized in the file, amicably enjoying her husband's company. No chance of infidelity, just like the last one. Matching rings, a smile to their face? It had to be something more.

"There's something wrong here." He concluded, just as Lucy offered to order the Caesar salad and some other entree that the Prof was only paying half attention to.

"Hm?" Lucy peered up from her menu, "What?"

"I see another couple over there. The woman is the key player this time, Sarah Morrison." He gestured carefully to another table without being obvious. Lucy glanced over, opting to look around for the waiter while she did so. "She also brought her significant other. I don't see why. It's not meant to be..." The waiter interrupted his reasoning, to which Lucy ordered for the two of them. He was surprised at how aptly she was able to determine what he'd eat, even though they had only been working for a year with sandwiches from the bistro across the Scotland Yard. It caught him off guard, just enough for her to grin in achievement.

"I take it I got it accurately. What are you thinking, Prof?" She asked him, but something in her voice hinted amusement. 

"To point, Lucy, yes." He tapped at the clothed table, “I feel as though this weekend isn’t so simple to what we’ve been told. Not just some diplomatic meeting.”

”With just seeing them with their significant others?” Lucy questioned, eying him in slight confusion, “But most companies tend to let their partners come when its big events, innit? Kinda like a incentive to come, since it’s both a business venture and a vacation?” 

”You’re right, to a degree...” The waiter from earlier had returned with their appetizer, the Caesar salad that Lucy had mentioned minutes ago. He stabbed his fork into it, deep in thought. Lucy said nothing more, also taking a stab. "But it's off. If this meeting was so important, why at a hotel? More specifically, why not just themselves? Having this meeting to be secret yet bringing their significant others? It would compromise the secrecy."

 **”Not convincing enough.”** The snark in his voice was obvious. Fendi glared, annoyed that his train of thought was interrupted. No less by him.

_”What? What are you talking about?”_

**”You’re so focused on the case that you’re not thinking of her."** He motioned towards Lucy, who had occupied herself with her salad. **"She's being neglected, no less on the first dinner. What was it about us living out our fantasy while it's placed on a silver platter?"**

_"The case--"_

**"Can _wait_. It's not even interesting until the blood comes away." **Al waived off, **"To see the vermillion blood on the carpet will surely amuse, but the waiting game isn't as fascinating."**

 _"We're meant to prevent one!"_ Fendi hissed, already knowing exactly what he wanted to do. _"The Lucy problem can come later--"_

 **"Boring."** Al wrenched control, his fork clattering against the plate. Lucy peered up to him in surprise. 

"Prof? Are you alright?" She queried, raising an eyebrow. She was almost done with her salad, a little bit of dressing on the corner of her lips that she would have wiped, had it not been for his interruption. It was so easy to just lean forward, to just finally revel in one of the things he had always wanted to do--kiss her until she couldn't breathe. It was a fantasy secluded to the Mystery Room, but he supposed it could be done here just as efficiently. "Prof?" She tried again. He abruptly stood up without another word, striding straight for her and she stood as well, confused. There was supposed to be a segue here, something that Fendi would have done, had he been in control. But Al was a raging machine, one that wouldn't hold to such simplicity. Instead, he tucked a stray hair behind her ear, a smile dancing on his lips. It was uncharacteristically kind of him, but he knew it had to be perfect--especially since they were in public and could not and would not devolve into a ravaging monster. He had that much gentlemanly aspect to himself, at least.

The Prof leaned forward, slow enough to see if she would back out. With no indication, he gladly continued his pursuit for her lips and then--

"Er, I have your entrees." The waiter from earlier interrupted, smiling sheepishly. The two turned to him, the Prof absolutely seething and Lucy nodding to the young waiter who didn't know what exactly he just cut into.

"Get the hell out of here before I do something that I'm sure you'd regret." Al barked to the waiter, who nodded and scurried off, realizing his mistake quickly. Lucy giggled, glancing up to him.

"You wanna do this here, Al?" Lucy asked and Al looked to her in confusion. "I think I know enough to see someone who is trying to kiss me."

"Are you suggesting--"

"No, no, though it would help solidify the whole dating thing, innit?" The concept of the whole relationship being fake comes back to him in droves, Al feeling Fendi attempting to regain control, but Al wouldn't let him. He wouldn't let his insipid personality ruin what they wanted so desperately. She looped her arms around his neck, bringing him close and letting his lips crash into her own.

Her kiss was not like how it was with Hilda--rather than a sheer request of dominance, she seemed to be willing to be the pliant one in the movement. Still having the taste of ranch on her lips, his eyes fell shut as his lips opened more to her. Their movements were languid, as though it wasn't their first shared kiss between the two, rather a continuation of what they would have already shared if they didn't wait for such an occasion like this to bring their relationship to life. The more he opened himself to her, the more he realized what this was. It stopped being what he had feared, a step to make sure they weren't found out, but rather something more, something akin to what he felt was a promise. A promise of what could be if he stopped being afraid and embraced the reality of Lucy Baker, the woman who not only exonerated him, but loved him in a way nobody else had in the past. He brings her closer to him as their tongues brush each other's, a groan escaping his throat. She responded in kind, hand balling up against his purple shirt and his own on the small of her back.

It was absolutely divine. He reluctantly released, taking a small step back to regain his mental faculties, something he was also sure Lucy needed just based on the flush of her cheeks. It was a dizzying sensation--he couldn't even recall the last time he had kissed someone in such a manner.

**"Was that so hard?"**

_"I..."_

"By 'eck, Prof, you're a real good kisser." Lucy commented quietly, taking a seat before her legs gave way to just how wonderful it was--the tremble in her hands was clear enough of the fact. The Prof let out a low chuckle, taking a seat too. "The food is getting cold, let's eat!" She devoured her food with alacrity, hardly waiting for him to say any more.

_"She's not going to comment on--"_

**"Save the awkward conversation for the room, Fendi. Just enjoy the memory of her lips, will you?"** Without another word, the Prof took a clean fork and stabbed into his food, relishing what just occurred even if it wasn't mentioned.


	5. What You Don't Know Can't Hurt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm genuinely surprised that people still do read stuff about the Mystery Room. I hope for more content, but y'know, whatever comes.
> 
> Fun fact: I never finished after case 3 or something of my own play through. I didn't have any money and couldn't experience it for myself, so everything I've ever written for this series has all been through let's plays and transcripts. It's clear in my early fanfictions because I didn't quite know to the extent of much until later. It probably extends to my writing, haha.

The lingering feeling of awkwardness still flooded the Prof even as he walked back to the room with Lucy, stomach full of both food and knots. He knew what he had done, crossed some invisible barrier that he knew was there. What he had done didn’t just constitute as some offhanded kiss that would solidify their stories to those around them. It didn’t feel that way—it felt more like a quiet question. A question he’d have to face. He forgot so easily how flustered he could get, specifically with someone he was romantically attracted to. His thoughts must be written all over his face or at least he looked bothered enough that Lucy tugged at his sleeve. He looked down to her, expecting her questions and what he'd have to face.

"Do you want something to drink before bed? Tea? Coffee?" Is the question she brings to him instead, rather than the more obvious ones that tended to swirl people's minds when they are kissed in the way he did to her, considering where they stood. Most people would ask **_'Did that mean anything?'_** or **_'Where do we stand now?'_** something, anything that would betray that she was wondering the placement of their relationship. But Lucy, oh Lucy, surprised him all the time--this was no exception.

"I'm alright." He responded to her lightly, taking out his key card and inserting it in the slot. The light turns to green and he pushes it open, grateful that he can finally let go of her hand and process both what had occurred and the case itself. "You can use the bathroom first, if you'd like."

"Aye, sure, Prof." She smiled to him, betraying nothing. She turned to the drawer, pulling out some clothes and stepped into the bathroom without another word. His glance to the bed reminded him of what was to come, a concept that the two personalities had both dreaded but felt excited for--even as they shouldn't. Sleeping in the same bed. They--Lucy and the Prof-- had bickered about this that day the case was presented to them, with both suggesting the floor. It came to it's head when Lucy just suggested to make a pillow wall, amusing him greatly and subsequently dropping the matter. He hoped he had a modicum of professionalism that could prevent her from feeling uncomfortable.

She entered the bedroom without much of a word. They move silently, as though this was something they did all the time; going on romantic romps and it was the winding of a long day. The Prof took his turn in the bathroom and did what he needed, emerging into the suite with Lucy already comfortable in the bed and reexamining the case file. He swallowed, an excuse on the tip of his tongue in order to get himself out of the situation. **Lovestruck teenager.** It was just so hard with her. She was like a sweet denied to him, a puzzle refusing to be solved even with his best efforts. It was hard to look at her straight with the way the lamp struck her features, the way every angle she seemed to embody defined such chiaroscuro colouring of a master painter and the way her lips had...

His hesitation caused her to look up with a smirk, "Prof, I'm not gonna bite. Come on."

"I know." Fendi responded lamely, forcing himself to the right side and pulling the covers. Al was practically biting remarks to Fendi's mannerisms, but Fendi shoved him down. He wasn't really sure what he was uncomfortable with. He was the one making it awkward and besides, it would only be more of a problem if he waited and tried to play gentleman. She was already clear on the fact that she wasn't afraid of him, much more that she was practically goading him. The bed sunk under his weight and he adjusted himself to face her. He never realized how sweet she smelled. "Any thoughts on the case, my dear?"

"Nothing more than what you told me. It's a real challenge, innit? We've never really done this, preventing a murder. Have you?" Her eyes were questioning, still not asking the question he had expected. Coughing, he brought the covers up and thought for a moment.

"Not personally, no. It's similar to a case that the Commissioner was on a a few years ago. There was a young man by the name of Jean Konda who was worried he was a target for murder, but was keen on knowing who it was. Instead of doing the reasonable and going into protection, he played as bait. He was sure that the man targeting him wouldn't choose something messy, like a gun or knife because most of his enemies were professors seeking his abilities." The Prof explained, going back to his fresh days as a Detective Constable. The young man in question was Jean Konda, a bright man fresh from Oxford. He had his own theories from the foul play that was constantly at his door, but until there was evidence and an attempt, there were no charges that could be placed. "In one week, the young man's would-be murderer had followed him to the conference, attempting to change his medication by swiping a key card from a maid, sneaking into his room to change the medication. He caught it all on tape and the would-be murderer was charged with attempted murder, motive to get rid of him in the science scene to take the glory for some revolutionary first authorship for a bit in a medical journal."

"Just for a medical journal? Surely there's more." Lucy murmured. 

"Some motives aren't the most clear. The man that tried to kill him could have very well not have, but he chose to for his own gain. There might have also been a jealous streak in the would-be murderer, considering their work's competitive nature." He remarks, pointing to the somewhat grainy photographs. "Sarah and Philip are unlikely to kill Luke. They don't have anything to gain from murdering Luke, no less in front of their spouses. They have loyalties to the company, especially because they both have children who are still young." He taps on two more photographs, one of a ginger male and another of a blonde woman. "Klei and Ella don't have any motives either at first glance, which leaves me to wonder why the Commissioner put us on this case to prevent a murder that seems unlikely. The rest of the lesser known people on this list have no reason to kill Luke either. It would make more sense for the murder to have already occured and piece it from there. So why are we watching these seemingly normal people? At most, they have a connection of the company and locale, but there's no..." He scratched his chin, trailing off.

Lucy shifted in her place in the bed at the Prof's explanation in a uncomfortable motion. "You said some motives are less than clear. Maybe these folks who are also coming to this meeting saw it as an opportunity. Holidaying and all, Prof, like what I told you. Just like what we're supposed to look like we're doing." He flicked his eyes up at her. She was being way too off-handed with that response, too pointed to an answer that, at first glance, seemed right. It was anything but right.

_"This isn't normal."_

**"For once, I'm inclined to agree with you. This smells of fumbling. She knows something."**

_"What could she possibly know? She came into this blank as we are."_

**"Barton must have told her something before we had left. She knows we're inching towards the truth. You see the way she's fidgeting. She never fidgets in that manner unless she's lying."**

"You know something. The Commissioner told you something that he refused to inform myself about between the time we were informed and the time we left." He accuses pointedly. Lucy, much to his surprise, returns his gaze instead of backing down. From his observations of her, Lucy was the type to hold her ground when she believed in something, but could easily concede when she was backed to the corner. He was going to do the latter.

"People holiday, Prof. What more do you want me to say? It's an educated guess." She shrugged nonchalantly.

"Not people who are a strict threat to national security, which the Commissioner seemed to have made very clear when propositioning the case." He responded, frowning.

"Aye, well they're still human. We do enjoy going out and splurging money sometimes, Prof. They have big enough salaries, don't they, working for some posh place or summat?" Al felt himself boiling at the fact she was still saving face. Lucy was hardly the type to lie. Why now?

"Lucy. You're an awful liar." His voice contains a warning quality, "Tell me what you know. Preferably _now_."

She opened her mouth pointedly, just about to say when the telephone to the hotel room rang. She closed her mouth, reaching for the phone and taking it instead of responding to his demand. "Hello, Lucy Baker...oh. What? How is that possible? Has Commissioner Barton been informed? Ah...yes. Makes sense. Okay. We'll be right there. Room 1829? Yes...okay. Bye." She replaced the phone back into it's cradle and looked to the Prof, her eyes containing a quality of surprise.

"What is it?" He asked her, watching as she closed the file and got up from the bed. "Lucy?"

"Luke has been murdered."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dun dun dun! I had a different route that I was going to take with this, but to my surprise, I chose a different pathway. this might take longer to develop because I don't know what I'm going to do, but we'll see!


End file.
